This is a test

Not the sort of test that comes with a grade and disappointed red comments (those will be in May), rather it’s to test the brokenness of a system. I’m not sure if a website can break. Does a website even exits, really? But if the stock market can crash, like a train or a truck, then a website could crack. Has my blog given up its bloggy ghost, or will it exist, forever, somewhere…And does it exist if nobody reads it? Well, you’ll read it right, dad? Hi.

We live in Queen’s Park. Not in the actual park, that closes at sunset and would be a daily annoyance, but in a “studio” across the street. We have a wall of rattley windows that look out over the peaceful, green park to the brick houses beyond. Our studio is one room posing as three rooms. Under the windows we have a bed and a nightstand, and across from the bed slumps a slack-jawed wardrobe. This is the bedroom. At the foot of the bed we have a table with two chairs and across from them a very impressive fireplace. Three times a day this is the dining room; the other (infinite?) times of the day it is a study. A foot-wide strip of wavy linoleum delineates the third room, the kitchen, from the living areas. Our cupboards are hideous, but our oven is hilarious, and the fridge makes a gentle snoring noise. It has a little cold. Ha Ha. The bathroom is down the hall, it barely warrants a mention.

Chris makes sandwiches for a massive café in Leicester Square. He also gets to eat these sandwiches every day for lunch. I read seven thousand books a day and don’t get to eat any yummy sandwiches. Peanut butter does not compare to smoked salmon and cream cheese, or a hummus salad wrap. The museums in London are free, so Chris and I have visited quite a few. Maybe we will see them all by the end of our year. We have already learned about dinosaurs, the history of medicine and space travel, we’ve admired statues, paintings and someone’s bust made from his own blood. I hear the London Transport Museum is quite good.